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Simon
After a study session with Penny, I return to my room, relieved to find out that Baz is still at football practice. He barely spends any time in our room nowadays, save for sleeping. And sometimes, when he thinks I'm asleep, he sneaks out of the room at night, going Merlin knows where to do Merlin knows what.
I've been following him around Watford for the past few weeks (the only reason I'm not doing it right now is that Penny threatened to unfriend me if I didn't study for my next Greek exam) and all I've noticed is that he's been going to weird places at weird times – who would go to the bloody White Chapel at midnight? Baz Pitch, apparently.
Though I don't know what it is he's doing, I don't like it one bit. He could be plotting how to Turn me into a vampire, but it could very well just be a place where he meets with girls. (How fucking romantic, Baz.)
I sit down on my bed and start emptying my backpack with a sigh. This semester's Greek is impossibly hard, and even Penny has been having some problems, but Baz hasn't wavered once. I don't know much about his study habits, but the only time I ever see him study is the night before an exam. Just that is enough for him to get perfect marks. Then there's the rest of us, like Penny and me, who have to start cramming weeks in advance. (in Penny's case, it gets her second place in class. I'm just happy when I don't fail.)
In the end, I convince myself to study a bit more. While reading one of the particularly tricky practice questions, I accidentally drop the pencil I've been fidgeting with for the past twenty minutes. Sighing, I mutter a curse under my breath and start looking for it. It takes me a good ten minutes to notice that it had rolled under Baz's bed. I remind myself that there likely isn't anything disgusting under Baz's bed (because he actually cleans up after himself, unlike me) and reach for it with my hand. Once I'm holding the pencil again, I notice something else lying under the bed. Out of sheer curiosity, I pull it out as well.
It's a leather-bound notebook. It can't have been there for long because apart from the thin layer of dust on the top, it looks almost like a new one. Baz would definitely get angry if he found out I looked into it, but I am way too curious to let it go. Baz doesn't have to know.
I sit down on my bed and open the notebook carefully, unsure of what to expect. After a moment of observation, I realize that what I've just found might actually be Baz's diary. After a moment of hesitation, I turn onto another page.
The first few pages barely contain any text, and I notice that Baz's handwriting wasn't quite as delicate as it is now. There is no date, but based on the handwriting, I assume that it's at least four years old, if not more.
I made friends with Dev and Niall.
There are multiple one-sentence entries at first, one much like the other. I skim the pages, thinking about how third-year Baz must've felt when writing these sentences, and how it is possible that I never noticed he was keeping a diary. My thoughts all come to a halt as I turn the page and the first thing I see is my name.
Simon was kind to me today.
I reread the sentence multiple times to make sure I'm not imagining things. It is my name, black on white. Perhaps it's another Simon and it's all just a big coincidence. I shrug it off and continue reading.
I made Simon angry. I wish I didn't have to. But I can't be friends with the Mage's heir.
Well, that's definitely me. He's never called me Simon though. And from how this is written, he sounds almost vulnerable. I've never seen this side of him.
I'm trying to think of reasons why I should hate Simon. There aren't any, except politics. And even that isn't a good reason. I don't understand why I can't be friends with him despite our differences.
I've never thought about it that way. That we can't be friends because I'm the Mage's heir and Baz is a Grimm-Pitch. But I wouldn't know because I couldn't care less about magickal politics. When I first met Baz, he was just a boy, but we quickly became sworn enemies. I wonder if he could be more than just a heartless monster, if he could still be the same boy who shook my hand without the intention to kill me.
I don't want to argue with him anymore, but there is no other way to keep him away from me. For a moment I thought that I could make myself truly resent him – but I can't. I can't stand him being close to me because it only keeps reminding me that we can't even be friends. And he's completely out of my league too. There's no way the Chosen One would ever pay attention to a gay vampire.
My heart skips a beat. I read the last line again and again. Surprisingly, it's not the word 'vampire' that my eyes linger on.
I hear a gasp from the door and turn my head hastily. Baz is standing in the doorframe, eyes wide. He looks at the notebook in my hands, up at me and back at the notebook.
Baz
When I came back home after the second year, I was so angry and frustrated that neither Daphne nor my father knew what to do with me. My aunt Fiona then suggested that I start keeping a journal. Naturally, both my father and Daphne were absolutely delighted with Fiona's idea and a few days before I started my third year, I found a thick leather-bound notebook on my desk.
At the time, I thought it was just another way for my family to spy on me (for some reason, they keep trying to fix me even though I've crossed the threshold of being beyond repair long ago). So I vowed to myself that if I ever started keeping a journal, I would only write in it at Watford and the notebook itself would never leave my room in the Mummers House. And that Snow would never find out about it.
Aleister Crowley, Snow found out, and I am so fucked.
“How much have you read?” I ask angrily, finally entering the room and closing the door behind me. Pretending not to care has always worked around Snow, so I hope it doesn't fail me now.
“Baz,” he stutters, and his cheeks flush. “I-I'm sorry. I was out of line.”
“Damn right you were,” I mutter. “Isn't there a rule we have for respecting each other's privacy?” I walk up to him, reaching my hand out towards the notebook. I'd wager I still look somewhat intimidating, despite the fact that every cell in my body has entered a state of panic.
Please, please don't be an asshole about it and just give me the book.
He gives it back to me, eyeing the ground. “I know. I'm sorry.”
I notice the page it's opened on and I feel my stomach drop. He knows.
“'I'm sorry' won't fix this.” I put the diary into one of the drawers I store clothes in, hiding it under a stack of sweatshirts and casting an especially strong “Nothing to see here!” in case he'd go snooping around again. And I ignore the fact that my hands are shaking and hide them behind my back. “The secret's out. I am a vampire and you were right all along. You saw it written in my own handwriting. Now you can go and tell everyone.”
Snow makes no effort to move. He's been standing in the exact same spot since I arrived and is looking at me dumbfoundedly.
“Baz, I think we should talk about—”
“There is nothing to discuss,” I cut him off before he gets the chance to talk about the rest of the page. “Now, if you'd excuse me, a vampire needs his daily dose of blood to stay undead.” And then I turn on my heel and storm out the door before he can stop me. I can't be in one room with him right now.
I rush to the White Chapel and head into the Catacombs, for once welcoming the cool damp air that normally makes my skin crawl. I feel panic rising up in my stomach and hurry to the intended place. I have a feeling my knees are going to give out soon. At last, I come to my mother's tomb and let myself collapse next to it as I try not to think about how disappointed she would be if she were still alive. I lied to Snow about needing to feed, I fed right after practice. But the thought of staying in the same room with him, even the thought of going back to our room is terrifying.
My heart is beating so fast that maybe I would even believe I've come back to life if I didn't know it's impossible. I bring my knees close to my chest and brace my head on top of them. Fuck, he knows. He knows about me being a vampire, he knows that I'm gay, and, and he knows that I have an impossibly huge crush on him. He knows, Crowley, he really knows—
“Baz! Baz, are you in here?” Of course he went looking for me, that idiot.
That's it. It's over for me. He will tell the Mage about me the first thing in the morning and I'll get kicked out of Watford at best. At worst, I'll soon move to mother's tomb permanently (I'm not even worthy of that. They'll probably burn my body and pretend that I got into some kind of a freak accident).
Resignedly, I consider my options. There is nothing wrong with me physically, I should be able to move, to hide, to run away from him, but considering what a mess I am right now, I would be no match for Snow. He may not be a good mage but he's still a dangerous opponent to go against in a fight.
I would have to face him eventually anyway. If I have to do it here, so be it. At least there's no one around to witness it.
“Baz!” I raise my head and see Snow on the other end of the corridor. Surprisingly, he's using his wand as a source of light (seems like he finally mastered the “Let there be light!” spell that is normally taught to first-years), his other hand holding the Sword of Mages. Is he here to finally do me in?
“I thought you'd be here,” he says when he gets within talking distance. His sword isn't pointed at me, not yet, but he keeps holding it with a firm grip.
“Get lost,” I mutter, still sitting on the ground. “You have no idea what you've done.”
“I'm not that thick,” Snow sighs, stopping a few feet away from me. “I was obsessed with finding out whether you're a vampire or not. I thought it would bring me satisfaction once I'd find out, but that's not the case.”
I take a few deep breaths. “If you think getting rid of me is what your heart desires, go right ahead. You're clearly at an advantage.” At least I wouldn't have to hear how ridiculous my feelings for him are.
“Do you really think I'm here to kill you?” Snow says, his voice losing the sharp tone he always uses whenever he's talking to me. He sheathes his sword and kneels in front of me. Even the way he's looking at me is somewhat calmer, kinder. It's the look I've only seen him give to people he cares about. My eyes must be deceiving me.
“What else would you come here for? I don't suppose you've come to collect lab rats.”
Snow shrugs. “I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have read your diary and you have every right to be mad at me.”
“So you wanted to find me to apologize after I told you I'm going out to feed? Crowley, how much do you want to die, Snow?” I can't help but roll my eyes. If I were a normal vampire, I would've already killed him.
Snow looks like he wants to say something, but then changes his mind. “You're right. But you know me, I act before I think.”
He's always been like that. And although I know that it's not exactly a good trait to have, maybe it would be nice not to overthink everything from time to time.
“Whatever. You're lucky I've already fed. Now go, I need to be alone.” Because the last thing I need right now is Snow seeing me cry.
“Okay,” Snow decides and gets up.
“Okay?” Normally, it takes a lot more time and patience to make Simon Snow give up his plans.
“I came here because I thought we could talk,” Snow runs a hand through his hair. “But I understand that you're in no mood for talking. I crossed a line and I don't want to cross another one.” He stands up and is about to turn his back on me when he speaks again. “Just so you know, I won't tell anyone.” And then he's gone, the faint light of his wand disappearing in the long corridor.
Simon
I don't know what I was thinking, walking into the Catacombs like that. It was a mistake to read through his diary, and a bigger mistake to think that he would ever forgive me. He's probably going to try to kill me as soon as he gets the chance.
My thoughts are a mess. I should run to the Mage's office and report him. I should use this moment of weakness and kill him while he's incapable of protecting himself. Merlin, if I'd attacked him in the Catacombs, he would already be dead. It's my destiny to kill him. Then why do I seek forgiveness instead?
When I reach our room, I head straight to the bathroom, trying not to think of anything while taking a quick shower (I end up thinking about Baz anyway). After I walk out of the bathroom, I glance at Baz's bed, more out of habit than anything else, before settling down on mine.
What is he going to do? I wouldn't be surprised if he disappeared from Watford forever. My life would be so much easier without him. I finally wouldn't have to worry about what he's plotting and maybe I'd finally get rid of that terrible knot in my stomach that I feel every time I see him. But right now, the thought of him leaving Watford forever doesn't make me happy at all. It would only make me feel guilty.
I don't even know him that well to know what his life is like outside of Watford, but I think he would be pretty devastated if he had to leave. When I watch him during lectures, he always looks like he's happy to be here. Magic must mean a lot to him and I'm supposed to be the one to take all of that away.
What is it about him that makes him so evil? I always saw him as the bad guy, but the more I think about it, the less sense it makes. He might have treated me badly, but to his defence, I haven't been the best roommate either. Despite all that, he's in love with me.
It's still confusing to think about Baz having feelings for me, but weirdly enough, it doesn't bother me. Even though no one besides Agatha has ever fancied me. Agatha, who broke up with me after she decided Watford wasn't for her. She's studying at a normal college, I think. Trying to become a veterinarian.
I fall asleep at some point, and when I wake up in the morning, he still isn't there. There aren't any signs that he's been here during the night either. I quickly push the anxious thoughts away. He's done this before when we fought. He would usually crash at Dev and Niall's, or so I've heard.
I get dressed and head down to breakfast, where Penny is already waiting for me. Trying not to be too obvious, I glance around the dining hall, but I'm not too surprised when I don't see Baz. Now it makes sense that I've never seen him eat. Do vampires even eat?
“Earth to Simon!” Penny waves a hand in front of my face with an amused smirk. “You look terrible, by the way. Were you cramming all night or what?”
“Something like that,” I say, munching on the fifth scone this morning.
Penny shoots me an annoyed glance. “'Something like that'? What's that supposed to mean?”
Finally, I give in. “Baz and I fought yesterday.”
“Merlin, not again,” she rubs her temples with her hands. “Was it bad?”
I decide to leave out the fact that I read his diary, or that I spent a good portion of yesterday's evening crawling through the Catacombs to find him. “Sort of. We didn't hurt each other, but he hasn't been to our room since. I just hope he shows up to lectures.”
“You're worried about him?” Penny nearly spits out her tea.
It's the first time someone says it out loud, but I don't deny it. “Even if I hate him, he's my roommate. And it was my fault that he got angry.”
“What did you do?”
I sigh. How do I leave this part out? “I invaded his privacy. Even if we hate each other, he's always respected that. I feel bad about it.”
Penny nods. “Maybe he isn't such a bad roommate, after all. Trixie doesn't care one bit about my privacy.”
“He's pushed me down the stairs!”
After breakfast, I head straight to Magic Words. My heart races as I get closer to the classroom, and nearly stops when I see him. Baz is sitting in his usual seat, his uniform as tidy and clean as ever, and he looks as if nothing happened. His textbook lies open on his table and his eyes are glued to it – he looks up briefly and we make eye contact. It only lasts for a second before he turns the other way and starts talking to Niall. I shiver and walk over to my seat.
Throughout the whole class, I keep looking at him every few minutes. He must’ve been to our room, there’s no way he would look this perfect without performing his usual morning routine. He probably went there while I was at breakfast.
“Simon, you’ve zoned out again,” Penny is standing by my desk, looking at me amusedly. “Did you actually listen to anything Miss Possibelf said?”
I sigh, picking up my books and getting to my feet. Baz is already gone when I glance at his seat.
He doesn't show up for football practice that day, or the day after. He still comes to all of his lectures, but always leaves as soon as possible to prevent me from tracking him down. (I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t stop me if I tried, but I want to give him some space.)
It goes on like this for several days. Baz manages to avoid me, only going to our room when I'm not there. After a few days, he starts going to football practice again. But he hasn't said a word to me since the day we fought.
I can’t stand it. I’d always thought I’d be happy if I had the room all to myself, but it’s unsettling, lonely almost. His presence had become so normal to me that I can’t relax without hearing his steady breaths at night.
I’d never thought about our relationship much until I found that diary. But the only thing I can think about is whether our relationship could’ve been different. We could have been great friends, I think. Underneath all that mischief, Baz is actually pretty nice for a bloke. Even the hatred he’d been showering me with was probably just a way to hide his real feelings for me.
And then there’s the question whether I’ve been doing the same thing. But it goes deeper than that. I’d never thought much about relationships, not even when I was with Agatha, which is probably why it ended the way it did. But the last couple of days have been different. I stay up late, thinking about me and Baz and everything else. My mind starts to wander and I start to imagine what our relationship could look like under different circumstances – I would get to watch his football practice up close, not just from the window of our room, and then we’d go study on the Great Lawn. At night, when I’d hear him have nightmares, I could wake him up and console him. I’d make him a cup of tea and let him talk about it.
“Penny, do you think I’m obsessed with Baz?” I ask her at breakfast. I can't directly tell her that I probably have feelings for him, so this is the best question I can ask without sounding weird.
She laughs. “Simon, ‘obsessed’ isn’t strong enough to describe it!”
I stand up abruptly, nearly knocking over my chair. “I’ve got to go,” I say before I can change my mind.
“Simon, you haven’t even touched these scones!” I hear Penny yell after me, but I’m already running towards the Mummers House.
Baz
I’m in the process of picking out a fresh set of clothes for the day when the door flies open and Snow barges in. Fuck, I was worried this would happen sooner or later.
“We need to talk,” he says, still breathless from running up the stairs to our room.
“There's nothing to talk about,” I dismiss him quickly, hiding my anxiousness. I can’t deal with this today. I grab the pile of clothes and head for the bathroom, but then he grabs my free hand, not allowing me to run away from him.
“You can't keep running away from this, Baz,” he says in a collected manner. Crowley, he's terrifying when he's calm like this. Just from feeling his hand on my wrist, I can tell how warm he is. And how cold I am.
When I finally turn to him, he loosens the grip on my hand but doesn't let go. With a sigh, I throw the pile of clothes on my bed so that at least one of my hands is free. “Then talk,” I encourage him, despair tinting my voice. I've got nothing to say, he already knows it all. But I am terrified of what he has to say to me.
“If you're worried that I'm going to tell someone about you, don't be. I would never do that.”
I can't help but laugh. “And why is that?”
He averts his gaze. “I thought I hated you... but I'm starting to think I've been wrong all this time.” He looks up at me. “I don't hate you, Baz.”
“You... you don't?” I know I should rip my hand out of his grip, but Snow's touch makes my skin tingle. Just from his touch on my wrist, I can feel the pulse of his beating heart and the blood rushing through his veins.
“No. There's no reason for me to hate you,” he takes a step towards me, probably expecting me to back up, but I don't. “I think I only hated you because... because I couldn't handle what I really felt.”
I feel the knot in my chest tighten. He is standing so close to me and he won't stop looking at me. I should make him let me go, but curiosity gets the best of me.
“Then tell me... what did you feel?”
Simon
Merlin and Morgana, give me strength for what I'm about to do.
Baz
He's only looking at me. That alone makes me feel a multitude of emotions.
And then his other hand is on the back of my neck, and he's pulling me closer, and he's kissing me.
Simon
The moment he kisses me back, I feel the lump at the back of my throat disappear. I let go of his hand and put both my hands on his shoulders to steady him and to support myself as I stand on my tiptoes to match his height. The room starts to smell of smoke and it feels as if I might go off, but then he wraps his arms around my neck and I know that I won’t go off. I would never hurt him.
Baz
If it weren’t for Snow holding me in place, my knees would have already given out. I kiss him back, tasting cinders and cinnamon on his lips. Though the rational part of me is terrified of what will inevitably follow after he pulls away, I selfishly ignore the thoughts and pull him closer to me.
I can't believe this is actually happening. That he's the one who initiated it. That Simon Snow is kissing me.
Simon
When our lips part eventually, I look up at him. Even though he’s a vampire, his cheeks are flushed and he’s breathing faster than usual.
“Snow,” he breathes out quietly. We’re still so close to each other that I can feel his every breath on my skin. He’s looking at me, the unspoken question lingering in the air.
“Yeah,” I smile at him.
I was never sure how to describe my emotions towards him, but finding Baz’s diary a few days ago was what prompted me to put love into the equation. And it’s starting to look like both sides of it might finally be equal.
“Why are—why did you do that, all of a sudden?” Baz asks. He takes a step away from me, but I can tell he isn’t really mad. He pulls his arms away from my neck and lets them rest by his sides. But he’s still looking at me and doesn’t make any move to back farther away from me. I couldn’t have scared him off completely then.
Even so, doubt starts to cloud my mind. “You know I’m not good with words.” My gaze drops to the floor.
“Hey,” he says in a firm tone, demanding my attention, “I’m not mad. But... you were right, we do need to talk.”
With a sigh, he pushes the pile of clothes aside and sits down on his bed. I settle on the chair of Baz’s desk next to the bed.
“As you already know, I’m a vampire, I’m gay, and I...” even after what has just happened, he still hesitates to say it out loud. “I fancy you. I didn’t tell you any of these things for a variety of reasons.”
“And you had the right not to, don’t you dare apologize for that,” I stop him. He's making it sound like it's his fault. “I should be the one apologizing, for invading your privacy, and forcing you to come out to me, and kissing you without consent...”
“I think the kiss can be forgiven,” Baz says calmly, right before his expression grows serious. “But reading my diary was wrong. Crowley, I thought you were going to report me to the Mage! He’d burn me at the stake if he found out that I’m a vampire.”
“I wouldn’t let him,” I say silently. “No matter how much I thought I hated you, I would never tell him about you. It’s not your fault that you’re a vampire.”
“You’d be one of the few with such an opinion,” he sighs. “Even my own mother would never have let me live, had she survived the attack.”
In moments like these, I deeply regret not having a way with words. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re still alive.”
“Sure,” Baz says sarcastically. He starts studying me with a curious glance. “So, what the hell was the kiss about?”
I feel the blood rushing into my face. “I’ve thought about it, and I... I like you too.”
“Really?” Baz smirks, back to his usual self. “You’d better not be toying with me, Snow. I’d rather have one-sided feelings towards you than let you give me false hope.”
“I don’t want to give you false hope. I’m still a bit confused, but I think I feel the same way about you.”
“Don’t think about it too much. You seem to have a talent for that, after all,” a smug smile appears on his face as he gets up from the bed. He moves to sit on his table and I shift in the chair a bit so that we’re facing each other. “Just act on instinct. For example, that kiss wasn’t such a bad idea.”
I chuckle. He’s looking at me again, and though I can’t understand what it is about me that fascinates him so much, I don’t mind being looked at by him. There’s a spark in his eyes that I’m positive wasn’t there before.
Before I know it, his hand is cupping my chin and tilting my head upwards, and he leans down to kiss me again. It’s shorter and softer this time, but just as enjoyable.
He’s the one to pull away first this time, looking at me questioningly. “Has this cleared up some of your confusion?” At some point, the hand that had been cupping my chin moved up to rest on my cheek. I put my own hand over it and smile at him shyly.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Baz looks almost nervous to hear the answer, so I decide not to draw it out any longer.
“I fancy you too, Baz.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, he breathes out in relief and his lips spread into a sincere smile. “And yet I thought you definitely weren’t into guys,” he says, more to himself than to me, and laughs.
“I don’t think I am exclusively into guys. But... I am into you,” I shrug.
“Simon Snow, you will be the death of me one day,” he laughs, and I make it my personal goal to make him laugh like that again. He glances at his wristwatch and bolts up from the table. “Shit, we’ll be late.” Then he looks at me apologetically. “Let’s continue this discussion after classes?”
“Yeah,” I smile. “Let’s.”
Penelope
There’s been something off about Simon for the past few days. From what I’ve heard, Baz has moved back into their room, but Simon hasn’t complained at all! I was worried that whatever it was, it would affect Simon’s performance in our Greek exam, but he seemed to be doing just fine when we were taking it.
Nonetheless, he hasn’t been the same since Baz moved back in, which is why I decided to go investigate. After classes, I pretend to head into the library after parting ways with Simon on the courtyard, but instead, I secretly follow him into the Mummers House and up into their room. When he closes the door behind him, I move to stand by the door and hear him talking to someone – and then a second voice, which without a doubt belongs to Baz. I cast “Loud and clear!”, making their conversation audible to me.
“Does Bunce know yet?” Baz asks, the usual sharpness of his voice gone. I’ve never heard him talk like this.
“No, but I’ll have to tell her soon,” Simon chuckles. “She’s noticed something is different.”
“No offence, but you’re practically beaming like the fucking sun all the time. Of course she’d notice.”
“Shut up,” Simon says in a tone that is so unlike his usual conversation with Baz. It’s a tone he would normally use with me, or with Agatha.
“Make me,” Baz says, and I hear them shuffling, and then a loud thud as they both collapse on the same bed – I can’t tell whether Simon’s or Baz’s, not that it matters in this situation. And then I hear them kissing.
Oh. So that’s what’s happened.
I rush out of there as quietly as I can, cancelling out my “Loud and clear” with a silencing spell (you never know how loud they could get). Simon and I need to have a serious talk about keeping our romantic relationships from each other, but for now, I’ll let them have it. (I’m not even that surprised, to be honest. Maybe they’ll both finally calm down now.)
Baz
We’re lying on my bed, Simon hovering above me. He’s holding himself up with his hands, his legs straddling me, and my arms are wrapped around his waist.
“She’s gone,” I say with an amused tone, looking up at him. “You couldn’t have just told her, could you?”
“She was the one who followed me all the way to our room!” he reasons. “I just didn’t know how to break it to her.”
“Hey,” my fingers brush a strand of curls out of his face. He must be nervous about Bunce’s reaction because he’s unnaturally tense. “Don’t worry. She’ll be mad at you because you hadn’t told her earlier, but she would never hate you for being yourself.”
“You think so?”
“I’m certain,” my hand moves from his forehead into his hair and I start massaging his scalp gently. It doesn’t take long before he starts to melt into my touch and before I know it, he’s lying down next to me. I move aside a little to make space for him, my hand returning into his hair once he’s made himself comfortable with his head on my chest.
“Are you going to football practice today?” he asks, tilting his head upwards to look at me.
“No, we haven’t got practice during exams.”
“I see,” he nods, yawning right after.
I don’t think my weak heart can handle looking at sleepy Simon Snow.
“We should study for tomorrow's Magic Words exam,” I say quietly, “but you should take a nap first.”
“Will you stay here with me?” he asks pleadingly.
How could I refuse? “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”